Resocialization of a Lost Cause
by Bittah
Summary: Work in progress. Tough street girl gets a visit from an unlikely person.
1. Exciting intro full of uh stuff...

**Resocialization of a Lost Cause**

A hazy mist of smoke hung in the air of Brady's Bar that late Friday night. Many of the local newsies were gathered for their ritual night of drinking and poker. They were a rowdy bunch but good customers, spending half their money on drinks and losing the other half in poker games. Each was usually left with only enough money to last them a day, if that. Most of the girls present were found hanging on one boy or another, flirting or being a good luck charm as they watched their boys play a riotous game of poker at the enormous poker table, located in the middle of the extensive room. This behavior was not the case for a solitary pair of girls sitting at the bar, neither drinking the alcohol in front of them. 

The first, a girl with emerald eyes and blonde hair tucked into a gray newsies cap, glared at the free whiskey the bartender had placed in front of her. Her body was stockier than most of the girls there, her womanly curves hidden by oversized boys' clothes. She pursed her lips tightly and tugged on the gold chain hidden beneath her undershirt, making the silver cross barely visible and kissing it before downing the drink in one gulp. "Gawd dat's nasty," she muttered, turning her attention towards her friend.

"I don't think it's my night ta drink, Bittah," the shorter girl said, pushing a strand of her long midnight black hair from her face and blinking her dark almond shaped eyes. She wrinkled her freckled nose as she smelt the bartender coming back again, his stench of body odor hard to miss. 

"Psyche don't want her drink Brady, an' I'm done for de night," Bitter said, ignoring the mock look he had given her. Bitter was known for her constant drinking on nights like this. Brady scoffed slightly at Psyche as he left, mumbling something about his whiskey not being good enough for her. 

"A lil' borin' tonight, isn't it?" Bitter asked, looking over the room.

"Spot's been lookin' ovah heah all night," Psyche stated, receiving a glare from Bitter as the words slipped from her mouth.

When she turned back to scanning the crowd, she met his glance and he quickly looked away. The infamous leader of Brooklyn, Spot Conlon, seemed to hang around Manhattan more often after the strike, especially when girls began to join the lodging house there. (In Brooklyn not many girls were allowed to live at the lodging house.) It was not uncommon to see a different girl on his arm each time he appeared. Bitter had long ago decided she would never be used like that, no matter how much she felt for the lanky, yet tough boy. Lately he had been flirting with her, asking her to go out or have a drink with him, but she brushed it off as a competitive nature. She had recently started dating Jack Kelly, the leader of the Manhattan newsies, and had seen Spot compete with him for a girl Jack was dating, one he had not yet acquired.

Tonight his arm was around a good-looking girl with long wavy hair, the color of a penny. Her face had a pale Irish complexion with freckles scattered across her skin and bright midnight blue eyes, which surprisingly stood out in the smoke. They had a dangerous look to them, with a scowl painted on her face as she watched the other girls in the room. She had a tough, muscular body, and was no doubt a Brooklyn girl, seeing as Bitter hadn't seen her near Manhattan. "Who's de goil he's wit?" Bitter asked Psyche, keeping her gaze on her. 

"Maverick, one of the newest members of the Brooklyn Lodging House," Psyche said. "What's he doing?" she asked, peering past Bitter's head to see Spot getting up, whispering something in Maverick's ear and then sauntering towards them.

"Shit, he's coming over," Bitter said, turning back around to casually look the other way as he approached. Psyche moved over a stool as Spot kindly asked if he could have a moment to speak to Bitter.

Bitter put on a tough facade, smirking at him as he took Psyche's seat. "You're looking very nice tonight Bittah. Can I buy you a drink?" Spot asked suavely, waving for Brady to come over. 

Bitter put her hand up, letting Brady know he was not wanted. "That won't be necessary Spot. You'se missin' yer pokah game," she said, motioning towards the increasingly obnoxious poker table where his date sat glaring menacingly at Bitter's back. He frowned a little but stood, nodding in reply. "Some other time then," he said, and with that he sauntered away. 

Bitter let out a sigh as he left, letting her face hit the bar table. "That's the third time this week!" Psyche exclaimed.

"Thank Gawd Jack wasn't heah to see that," Bitter muttered to herself, knowing what her overprotective boyfriend would have gladly done. 

Psyche shook her head in dismay, how Bitter could fake her way through a conversation the way she did amazed her. In a matter of seconds Bitter had turned from the girl who had secretly confided in her friend the hour before about her ever-growing love and desire for the Brooklyn leader to an uncaring, almost cold tough girl who had just brushed off an offer to share a drink with the most sought after man in New York. 

"Speakin' of Jack, wheah is he?" Psyche asked, staring intently at her as she rose her head up to answer. 

"He's out wit David on one of dere boys' only outings," Bitter said, rolling her eyes. "An' why hasn't Mush been ovah heah tonight?" she asked in turn, eyes searching for the boy Psyche had loved from afar. Mush simply seemed oblivious to any affections besides those of friendship.

The smaller girl's cheeks burned a deep shade of scarlet. "He didn't feel like comin' tanight," she shrugged, "I don't blame him, it's bloomin' boring heah!"

Bitter laughed. "Yeah, an' I ain't losin' me money by competin' against Race tonight, so it's gonna stay borin'!" she said, looking towards the crowded poker table where Race had just won _again_. Loud moans and hollers were heard as he gathered up his winnings. "I swear dat boy has some cards up his sleeve," she muttered to herself. 

The sight of him constantly winning did not shock her as much as seeing him turn around and plant a kiss on the girl next to him. "When did Race start dating Wish?" Bitter asked as she intently watched the thin but fairly muscular girl pull away from him. Wish pushed her shoulder length black hair behind her ear with a flustered look on her pale face, and her dark, innocent brown eyes darted around to see if anyone was unnerved by her boyfriend's sudden display of affection. 

"Tonight must be their first date," Psyche said with a smile, "She's wearing a red dress." 

Bitter laughed, finally noticing. Wish only wore dresses on special occasions and Bitter knew she should have noticed earlier, but her thoughts had been distracting her all day. She kept thinking about the problems that had surfaced in the past week, problems that she'd rather keep in her head than mention to someone else. 

Silence rang between the two girls, Bitter's mind traveling back to issues she had been able to ignore for at least a few minutes. Psyche was also deep in thought, but on happier things, such as Mush. 

Bitter didn't even notice when her leg started to shake, as it usually did when she became a bit edgy. Psyche was usually the first to notice, but her head was soaring through the clouds, dreaming of what it would finally be like to be in Mush's arms. She did, however, notice a moment later the lighting of a match and a sudden puff of smoke that made her eyes tear. She looked over at Bitter, who was taking quick puffs of a cigarette, her leg still shaking.

"Bittah..." she started.

"I'se gonna take a walk," Bitter said, giving her a look that told Psyche she needed some alone time as she stood up.

"Be careful," Psyche warned, knowing very well that Bitter might involve herself in a fight, as she often did when she needed to blow off steam. The only response she received from Bitter was a quick raise of her eyebrows as she sauntered out of the bar, smoking a bit shakily. Psyche held her breath as she saw Spot shift his view towards her, but thankfully did not follow her. 

It was a good hour before Bitter slid in through the back door, just like Psyche knew she would. She had spent most of the time staring at that door, waiting for her to come back. A few friendly newsies had conversed with her while she waited, but she was thankful that no one was with her when she saw Bitter's disheveled look. There was no blood on her and no limp or look of pain in her face except for a split lip and Psyche silently thanked God for that fact.

"I knew it," Psyche said simply, not the least bit accusingly, as Bitter took the seat next to her. It didn't surprise her. Bitter was constantly getting into fights, half the time not even coming back hurt. 

"He deserved it," Bitter shrugged, wincing as Psyche pressed a wet napkin against her lip. She told the story of what happened, smiling as she described how the guy looked when she was through with him. "Serves him right for messin' wit me," she said, a sound of distaste in her voice, as if she were trying to swallow the pride that had surfaced. 

"Shit," Bitter let slip from her mouth as she caught sight of Jack standing in front of the half-open door that she had come in a few minutes prior. 

"Don't worry," Psyche said, standing up. "He's not gonna be that mad," she said quickly, seeing a look cross Bitter's face.

"Hey Jack, Davey," Psyche said as Jack made his way over, his best friend not long behind him. His normal red bandanna was missing from his neck and he looked a bit too put together, his clothes all tucked neatly in the right places. His hair was ruffled from the wind and his smiling, full lips turned into a frown when he saw Bitter's bloody, puffy lip.

Bitter watched as Davey pulled Psyche aside, the two leaving a bit quicker than she would have liked. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Jack. "It was just a lil' fight Jack, you'se seen more than enough of your own," she said quickly before he could speak.

Jack shook his head. "I knew I should've came heah soonah," he said.

"You want to go home? I only came heah to find you," he said smoothly, dabbing her lip with a moistened handkerchief from his pocket.

"That might be a good idea," she said, licking her lips to make sure all the blood was gone from them. Jack nodded, holding a hand out for her, which she refused, her eyes sparkling mischievously, eliciting a laugh from Jack.

"Shall we?" he asked, slipping an arm around her waist as he caught Spot and Maverick looking over at them as they walked briskly across the room. Bitter ignored both Spot's prying eyes and his girl's rude snarl and kissed Jack lightly on the neck, making him smile and paused to kiss her before they went out the door, moans and hollers heard from the unruly poker table.

Bitter's cheeks were flustered as she looked one last time to where her friend had gone, yawning and hoping she and David would be close behind them, but they were no where in sight. She didn't say anything as Jack pulled her towards the lodging house, seeming a little overeager to sleep, but she ignored it as she went through the events of the night in her head. 

They were there in no time and Bitter instinctively headed towards the girls' bunkroom, but found Jack grabbing her arm. "Bittah?" he said, his eyes glimmering as she yawned slightly.

"Yes?" she asked, a bit annoyed with him breaking her sleeping time.

"Why don't we rest together?" he asked, pulling her gently towards the boys' bunkroom. 

She moaned and shook his arm off. "You know Kloppman will have a fit," she pointed out quickly.

Jack's lips turned into a pout. "The boys'll wake us up when they get back," he said, motioning towards the boys' bunkroom. "I missed being with you all day," he added, seeing her hesitation.

Bitter smiled at this, his charm getting to her. "Fine," she said, letting him lead her to his bunk. She lay down yawning and smiled as he lay down next to her, pulling his arms around her and kissing her sweetly on the lips. She lazily kissed him back, letting her hands rest on the back of his neck as he deepened it. She too had missed him that day and didn't object when he pushed his hands up her shirt and felt her body. 

They went on like this for a few minutes, the heat growing slowly between them and Bitter pushing it back like she usually had to with his persistence. She had told him many times that she would tell him when she was ready for what he longed after and was surprised when he began to unbutton her pants. 

She broke the kiss and shook her head, removing his hands from her pants. "No Jack," she said, leading them back up to her upper body. 

Jack mumbled a 'sorry' and kissed her again, slowly working her back into his arms before trying once again to get her pants off. It was only on the third time that Jack didn't stop when she said no. She pushed him away from her quickly when he didn't listen to her decision to stop, but his hands grabbed her wrists and he shook his head quickly, squeezing her wrists a little too tight, Bitter desperately holding back a wince.

"Bittah, we'se been going out for a few months now and it's time we moved on," he said. "It's time we stop holding back," he added, his voice growing louder.

"Jack," Bitter said sternly as he took one arm back and started to undo her pants again. When he didn't listen, she put all her weight into throwing him off of her. "I told you no!" she said, pulling her pants back up and putting her shirt on, her wrists aching where she knew bruises would form later. 

Jack shook his head. "Don't you love me?" he asked as he stood from where she had thrown him. 

"Jack I do, I'm just not ready," she said, melting as his eyes poured into her own. She kissed him quickly on the forehead and left, trying not to let her emotions get to her. _If only Jack knew_, she thought to herself and then quickly shook her head, making her way to the girls' bunkroom, hoping Psyche would already be there. 

Psyche was sitting on her bunk, baffled as to why David wouldn't tell her why Jack and Bitter had slipped off so quickly. She knew Bitter wasn't about to put out and 'alone time', in David's words, meant more than just sleeping. 

Psyche had pulled out a journal and was jotting lines quickly down, trying to ignore some of the sounds coming from the boys' bunkroom and was not at all surprised when Bitter came in a minute or two later, looking disheveled and her green eyes dark with foiled emotions. 

Psyche watched Bitter sit down on her own bunk, which was right next to hers and watched her pull out her own journal with shaky hands, her wrists reddened. 

"He tried ta pressure you again?" Psyche asked, trying to hide the anger in her voice. She knew it happened and was quite distraught since she couldn't have prevented it due to David's persistent talking.

Bitter didn't answer, ignoring Psyche's dark almond-shaped eyes staring intensely at her as she continued to write across the page with a shaky hand. "Don't push me away Bittah," she said in a serious voice. When Bitter still didn't answer, Psyche put her journal aside and sat down in front of Bitter on her bunk. 

Bitter didn't react until Psyche grabbed the journal from her and tucked it under her butt, taking Bitter's hands into her own, squeezing them gently to get her attention. "Bittah, c'mon, I'se heah ta listen."

A sigh escaped Bitter's pursed lips and she finally looked Psyche in the eye, her eyes filled with despair and emotional turmoil. She laughed nervously and went back to staring at the plain white sheets beneath her. "I guess it's good dat he knows how strong I am," she said quietly.

"Maybe he wouldn't be so persistent if you told…" Psyche was interrupted by a fierce "NO!" Bitter's eyes gleamed maliciously as she shook her head, taking her hands away from Psyche's and quickly moving towards the window, ignoring her friend's prying, sorrowful eyes. 

"I'se not ready to tell 'im dat Psyche an' I don't want you tellin' 'im either," Bitter said quickly, gazing out of the window into the dark night. She was relieved when sounds from downstairs quickly grew and the rest of the girls joined them in the bunkroom,

ceasing her and Psyche's conversation altogether. 

Bitter ignored Psyche's attempts to get to the other side of the room as she slipped out of the window. She shimmied over to the bathroom window and was relieved to find it open, slipping through, barely making a sound. 

She smirked at her cleverness and averted her eyes from the mirror as she walked through the bathroom, heading straight for the door. 

"Watch wheah yer goin'," a gruff voice called, Spot's tough look softening as he saw who it was. "Bittah, what a pleasant surprise," he said, looking her over. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw her reddened wrists. "Jesus, what happened?" he asked, grabbing one of her wrists before she could react to his question.

Bitter quickly pulled her arm back from Spot, but not before he noticed the finger-like marks on her wrists.

A fleeting look of concern wiped across his face, but turned back into a tough scowl as Maverick exited from the bathroom. "We'se jist lookin' around Bittah, **Jack** is letting us," he said, emphasizing the word Jack. When she didn't respond to his hint, he pulled

Maverick away, who was snarling at Bitter for the moment, but not before she could let out a few whispered words, which included "stay de hell away from Spot or you'll pay big time."

Bitter watched them leave, her expression not changing from the indifferent, tough facade until they were fully out of sight. 

"Well Spot found himself a _great_ catch, didn't he?" Psyche's voice dripping with sarcasm as she spoke. Bitter shivered slightly, a bit surprised by her sudden appearance, not thinking anyone else was in the hall with them. 

Psyche sighed at the surprised look on her face. Her face was scrunched up with surprising emotion, her eyes already forlorn and quickly averted to the ground and her features scrunched up half in surprise, and half in despair. "Bittah…" she started as Bitter took in a hasty breath.

Bitter shook her head. "He noticed," was all she said, stalking quickly past her, and for once Psyche didn't try to stop her. When she went back into the bunkroom after many minutes of thought, Bitter was fast asleep and looking too peaceful to wake up.

"Well, she finally looks happy," Psyche murmured to herself, watching the other girls lazily get into bed before turning the lights off and doing the same.


	2. Teaser second chapter

More of a teaser, but that's ok. Thanks for everyone reviewing this…:)

* * *

"C'mon Bittah, get up, ya can't hide in bed all day," Psyche said, poking her in the side to get her moving.

"Leave me de fuck alone," she mumbled sleepily, pushing her best friend's hand away.

"Get up," Psyche repeated, her voice growing obnoxiously loud.

Firefly, an average looking girl with long brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, watched the scene unfold before her light blue eyes and decided to intervene. "Dis is how you get her up," she said, grabbing the mattress and pulling it upwards, causing Bitter to tumble off the bed with an 'umph'.

Surprisingly enough Bitter didn't retaliate, but rather muttered something about 'Blink's long sleeved overshirt' as she made her way sleepily out of the girls' bunkroom. She didn't even care what the boys saw as she dazedly walked to Blink's bunk. 

Blink was still half asleep and she had to nudge him awake. "Get up ya bum," she whispered into his ear. He groaned and opened his one eye, smirking widely. 

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd think you were trying to tramp around, wearing just that," he said, making her crack a grin.

"If I didn't know you I wouldn't give you the time of day," she retorted with a smirk. "But seeing as I do, I need to borrow one of your long-sleeved shirts," she said.

Blink grumbled slightly and then sighed. "I guess if you don't have anything to wear," he grinned, shaking his head as he looked her up and down. 

"You and your wandering eyes," she muttered, grabbing his shirt from the edge of his bed and leaving. 

"Don't I even get a kiss?" Blink called. Bitter rolled her eyes and flicked him off. "Ask one of your many admirers!" she hollered, hurrying out of the room, pulling on the shirt. She didn't want to see Jack until later that day and planned on avoiding him for as long as she could.

The girls' bunkroom was empty, all the girls in the bathroom most likely. Kloppman woke them up earlier to make sure they had more time to get ready than the boys. He didn't care if they coupled up on their own as long as they didn't do it in the lodging house. She was a hopeless romantic herself and Jack helped her discover that. He was her first real boyfriend, so she had no clue about the do's and don'ts of such things. She sighed, just thinking about him gave her mixed feelings. She pulled on her gray cap finally, tucking her hair up into so the blonde was barely showing. 

Stopping by a mirror, Bitter nodded at herself in approval. She avoided all the newsies by climbing out through the window. Danger was a sport to her, not a fear. Her life on the streets had taught her to make the best of everything, even the most terrible of things. She simply wanted to do her time and make it to angel status when she died. Death didn't scare her any more than jumping off of the second floor like she just had done. Landing on her feet, she barely paused before taking off into the morning light.


End file.
